


The Life and Times of the Huntress: Deanna Winchester

by tigeressdion



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Gen, Genderbending, Pilot-Plot divergence, fem!dean, maybe one-shot maybe I'll write more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 16:36:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2316245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigeressdion/pseuds/tigeressdion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deanna Winchester makes the journey to Stanford find her brother. He, in turn, is supposed to help her find their dad. Well, things don't always go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Life and Times of the Huntress: Deanna Winchester

**Prologue**  
"Woah," a chuckle from above his head and the brush of something soft across his forehead. "Easy tiger."  
"Deanna?" What the fuck?  
"Heya Sammy." A slice of moonlight broke through a gap in the curtain and Sam caught a glimpse of a row of white teeth grinning at him.  
He flipped them so that he was weighing her down, "what are you doing here?"  
Deanna shoved him off her and stood, flicking her hair out of her face. "I-" she paused to straighten Sam's t-shirt. "Was looking for a beer."  
"Deanna," Sam said, fighting to keep his cool as he crossed his arms across his chest.  
"Fine, I needed to talk to you." She said, the grin disappearing to be replaced by a firm set of her mouth.  
"The phone?" Sam suggested, exasperated.   
"If I'd have called, would you have picked up?" Deanna asked, raising an eyebrow.  
Sam paused, searching for a good answer. The tense silence between the siblings was interrupted by a soft voice.  
"Sam?" Jess said, leaning against the doorframe. "Who's that?" She asked, squinting from Deanna to Sam.  
"I'm Deanna," she said cheerily, the grin firmly settled back on her face. "Sam's sister."  
"Oh," Jess tried to tug down her top and smiled nervously. "Uhm, Sam never really speaks about his family. I'll just go get dressed..."  
"Nah, that's alright; I love the Smurfs." Deanna said with a hint of a smirk. "Anyway, I just need to steal your boyfriend for a quick talk. Family business."  
"No," Sam said suddenly, standing next to Jess. "Whatever you want to say to me, you can say to her."  
"Fine." Deanna chewed her lip for a moment, running a hand through her hair before saying: "dad's on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days."  
The air stuck in Sam's throat, "Jess, would you give us a moment?"  
***  
"So," Deanna said, glancing at her brother with a smirk. "Sammy, that your girlfriend?"  
"Yeah, and it's Sam. " He nodded, a smile flickering across his lips despite himself. "Don't," he added suddenly, shooting her a warning look.  
Deanna mocked a look of hurt, "don't what? She's a taken woman, I play by the rules."  
Sam snorted, "yeah, right."  
"I do! Maybe not all the time," she acknowledged. "But definitely for my little bro." Deanna said with a grin.  
***  
They'd barely been in town for a three hours when she'd been arrested, even for her, it was a new record.  
"So, fake U.S Marshall ID, fake credit cards. You got anything that is real?" The cop had asked, clearly seeing her as nothing more than a little girl.  
Deanna pursed her lips, as if in deep thought, for a second, before answering: "my dick." With a small smirk.  
Honestly, she hadn't meant to get taken to the station, shit happens, right? And frankly, she could've gone without the Sheriff's (Deanna guessed he'd been the Sheriff at least, she hadn't really been paying attention) bullshit speech on how she and her family were killers and devil worshippers. The one good thing that came of it though, was that she got her dad's journal back; even if it did start an uncomfortable niggle at the back of her mind that things might not all be as they seemed. When an emergency phone call had cleared the police station of cops, Deanna had known immediately it was Sam.  
"That's m'boy," she muttered with a proud grin, waiting thirty seconds to be sure everyone was gone before clearing out down the fire escape.  
***  
So, they'd found out that dad had been where they were, and that it was a woman in white they were hunting and dispatched of said woman in white. Deanna had taken a dip in a river that smelt like a sewer and been arrested once, all in under three days.  
Right now, Sam's sister was practically skipping back to him where he was leaning against the Impala. She'd taken her beloved brown suede jacket to the launderette after its impromptu soaking. Sam didn't know a whole lot about the jacket, other than Deanna had been wearing since she'd been sixteen and she had once let it slip that it had belonged to their mother.  
As Deanna drew closer, Sam marvelled at how little she seemed to have changed in the two years since she'd last visited him. Her hair was still a hazlenut brown at the roots that lightened to a sunny blond at the tips and it still fell in waves to her chest (dad always said girls should wear their hair long, so of course Deanna did, despite how much it obviously irritated her). The same spray of freckles dotted her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose (although there seemed to be more than there'd been in the past), and her skin was the same light tan it always seemed to be. Her eyes were still an intense emerald green and her lips still full and pink; even without lipstick. Deanna's choice in clothing didn't seem to have changed either; she was wearing a clingy, black AC/DC tank top with a plaid shirt over the top, sleeves rolled up and unbuttoned. She was wearing jeans peppered with a few small holes and countless scuffs, though Sam knew that if even a hint of sunlight was showing Deanna would immediately be in her denim shorts. The look was finished by a pair of tough, brown leather biker boots ("the day you catch me huntin' in heels is the day you cut your hair, Sammy,").  
"My jacket's fine!" Deanna announced with a grin as she shrugged it on, "the guy even did the cleaning for free." She added with a wink.  
Yet another thing that hadn't changed, Sam thought with a small grin.   
***  
"Hey, Sammy!"  
He glanced over his shoulder, "yeah?"  
"We, uh, we made a great team back there." Deanna said, leaning across the seats to look at Sam out of the open window.  
"Yeah," Sam agreed softly. "We did, Dee."  
The effect the nickname had on his sister was obvious, if only for a second her breath caught and for a moment it looked like she might even indulge in a full on chick flick moment.  
Until, that was, she smirked, shouted: "I'll see your sorry ass around, bitch!" And had left in a cloud of smoke and tire fumes.  
"Jerk." Sam had muttered, smirking to himself as he walked inside.  
***  
It had been Deanna that saved his life that night, as always. It was Deanna that pulled him out of the flames that consumed Jessica. It was Deanna that stuck with him for the weeks that he stayed at Stanford searching for a clue, *anything*, to give him a clue about Jess' death. It had been Deanna that stayed awake through his nightmares, always there when he woke, a steady, calming presence; just as it had been when they were kids.  
But despite all of that, Sam couldn't help but feel a bitterness towards his sister. She had been the one to pull him from the deathly threat of the flames, but she hadn't been able to save Jessica. In fact, it had been her fault he hadn't been there anyway. Deanna had been the one that showed up in the middle up the night telling Sam she needed him. Which he knew was bullshit anyway.   
On their last day at Stanford, Sam voiced his treacherous thoughts.  
They'd had another day of finding jack squat and Sam was sleep deprived, (despite Deanna's constant nagging to get some sleep, but sleep only brought nightmares) not to mention completely overwrought and grief-stricken.  
"Sam," his sister's voice was as gentle as it had been for the past weeks, and there was no reason what she said next should set him off, but it did.  
"You should get some sleep."  
"Sleep?" Sam laughed coldly. "I don't *get* to sleep anymore. I just dream. Not even good dreams, just nightmares. And even then, it's not different ones. Just Jess. Jess dying over and over again, hundreds of times a night."  
Deanna quickly ran a hand through her hair. "I know, but your body needs some kind of rest." She said, and there it was. The ever-present big sister, protect-Sammy-even-if-he-doesn't-want-to-be-protected mode surfacing once more.  
"Then why don't you sleep too?" Sam snapped, "what's your excuse, hm?"  
It was a low blow and he knew it, but he didn't take it back or even appear sorry.  
"I-" Deanna glanced away, twisting her hands and sighing. "Just get some sleep." She said eventually, picking up a book of lore and settling back into the chair with her feet up on the table.   
Another thing that hadn't changed, Sam thought bitterly. His sister was still as distant from her emotions, or at least communicating them, as ever.  
The next morning, when he found Deanna asleep in the same position that she'd been in when he fell asleep, having tried to maintain her silent vigil throughout the night, Sam felt another wave of guilt hit him. Deanna had only been trying to help as much as she could, and he'd thrown it back in her face.  
When she awoke, greeted by the scent of coffee and muffins, Deanna didn't mention Sam's minor breakdown. So, he took the initiative.   
"Dee, I'm-"  
"It's fine," she said immediately, waving the half-formed apology away.  
"But I-"  
"You didn't mean it," Deanna interrupted. "I know."  
Sam sighed in frustration, "Dee-" he tried again, only to be cut off again.  
"So I figured out where the coordinates are that dad wants us to go to," she said conversationally, in between bites of muffin. "Blackwater Ridge, Colorado. Fancy checkin' it out?"   
No, he wanted to stay at Stanford until they found some hint of evidence about Jess' death or the killer. He wanted to wreak havoc and retribution for the wrong done by him and the woman he loved. But Sam instead simply nodded.  
Deanna grinned at him, "awesome. Let's hit the road."


End file.
